Maybe I Like It This Way
by Queenie and Kate
Summary: Song fic, Mimi's thoughts and reflections in the days following a major fight with Roger. Rating due to... her being angry and the fightingness RR PLEASE, I'm... unsure about this one.


Maybe I Like It This Way

By: Rinny

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I know it's wrong

I know he's rough

I don't know what to do

But we've been through enough

****

MIMI MARQUEZ WAS CRYING. 

ROGER DAVIS WAS GONE.

AND MIMI KNEW SHE WAS SLOWLY BREAKING.

I know it's time

And yet I play

Maybe I like it this way.

He's not literally gone. Of course not. Roger would never put _himself_ through that hell again. To leave, to not be able to see me everyday. To not be able to reassure himself that I'm still his. The one time he actually left, I wasn't his anyway.

He's all but physically gone to me. I know that much. I know he doesn't love me anymore. How could he? If he loved me, he wouldn't be able to hurt me the way he does; he wouldn't be able to let me break like I am. He hasn't loved me for a long time.

I should leave. I know I should. I have a bag packed, hidden away for the one time I snap. I don't leave though, I never do. I can't. I love him and... I pretend it's okay, pretend I'm happy. I can't change Roger, so I play the happy little girlfriend and everyone believes me. Everyone assumes the fights just make me mad and bitchy, like Joanne and Maureen's fights do to them. I know they don't understand, that it affects... upsets... _hurts_ me. Except...

It doesn't matter who sees through me. He'd never say anything anyway. Not to anyone other than me. So, I just hide the diary Roger doesn't know I keep somewhere where I know he won't find it and wipe off my face, putting on my "happy smile". Be happy Mimi... or at least pretend you are.

__

I see his pain

I hear his cry

He pulls me to the edge

But I don't ask him why

To anyone else, Roger would have gone too far this time. He almost went too far for _me_.

Me and Mark and him were at a club. And... this makes sense, it really does. Roger was drunk. Anyway, Mark and I... we weren't flirting. He's my best friend, I couldn't ever. But we were joking around and he hugged me. Friends hug. And suddenly Roger ripped me away from him and started "escorting" me home. I should have known better. He was livid and _so_ drunk. I just kept protesting that I wasn't flirting and I wouldn't shut up when he told me to. And so... he hit me. Hard. For months he's done everything but physically hurt me. And he hit me.

I was going to leave this time. I guess he was in shock from what he did, or something, but he wasn't holding me as tight anymore. I managed to run away. And I got my bag from my apartment and now I'm standing in the loft because I left a necklace Mama gave me up here, and I want it back.

I can hear Roger crying in his... _our_ bedroom. Oh God... he's crying. My Roger never cries. I drop my bag and push the door open, finding him curled up on the bed. He sits up and his eyes meet mine. I can see pain in them. I gingerly crawl into his arms and he holds me tightly... no, possessively, while babbling incoherently. All I can hear is "I'm sorry". Not 'I love you'. 'I'm sorry'. He's holding me too tight, too possessive. He doesn't love me, he just wants to prove to the world that _he_, Roger Davis, gets to keep Mimi Marquez, regardless. Now I'm crying too and all I can think is how once there was a Roger who would never imagine that his girlfriend-me-would cheat on him. I miss him, the Roger that loved me, I miss him so much. I just slump against him and cry and miss him. Any thoughts I had of leaving have completely disappeared from my head.

__

I understand

And I obey

Maybe I like it this way.

Roger doesn't want me to go to work tonight. It's understandable, really. He says that he doesn't feel comfortable with other guys grabbing me at after last night. He says he trusts me, he just doesn't trust them. He says... what does it matter what he says? He doesn't trust me. He doesn't love me.

But he's still here. And I still love him. I know I shouldn't, I know I'm being a fool, but I still... So, I'm calling my boss, telling him I'm sick and can't come in tonight. He gives in, but I'm gonna have to do a double shift the next time one of the other girls wants the night off. He knows he can make more money off of that. I *am* the star of the Cat Scratch Club, I have my own _billing_. That doesn't happen often at clubs. 

I wish I was going, I like the attention. I like knowing that at that moment in time, the guys love me. Sure, they're thinking with their... they're not thinking with their heads, but that doesn't matter to me. It's still a glow-y feeling, I wish... It doesn't matter. Wishes don't come true. Not for people like me.

I sigh, hanging up the phone and rising to look at Roger's closed door. Maybe tonight'll be okay. My bruise hasn't gotten really bad yet and... maybe Roger and I can actually have a nice time tonight, just the two of us. Maybe I can remind him why he loved me. 

__

I like the way he laughs

His strange and silent stares

I like the way he moves

The way he's always there

Evening not as exciting as I hoped. Still... we're not fighting. I guess it counts as a good night. There's really nothing to complain about. I let out a heavy breath and set down my book, staring across the room at Roger. He has his guitar. He's not playing it, though. He's just sitting and staring too... glaring really. Probably has writer's block. I sit and watch him. I know better than to try to talk to him in times like these. I love watching him though. It's enough. He looks so intense... so solid and there. Like, if anything were to come near me, he'd be able to take care of me. Like he'd be able to protect me from anything. I like to keep that thought close to me. Roger finally puts the guitar to the side and looks over at me.

I take that as an indication to come over. So I do. I sit next to him and gently slide a hand onto his leg. If I'm sweet and... I look up at him and smile a little, trying not to look too scared as he stares back into my eyes. Finally, his mouth slowly curves into a smile as well. He slips his hands around my waist, pulling me against him. "Mimi... Mimi, what do you think? Let's go out to eat tonight... some place nice. Just you and me... You can wear something nice and order whatever you want and I'll drink Coke... no beer... and on the way home, I'll buy you ice cream and..." Roger trails off into just mumbling, burying his face in my hair.

I can't wipe the smile off my face. This is the Roger I loved and missed.

__

The way he calls my name

The way he takes control

I like the way this man

has stirred my soul.

Reading my book again. What else can I do? Roger is all holed up in his room, on the phone and I'm... here. I can't concentrate on my book though, I keep looking over at the door. I wonder what he's talking about? Why am I so nosy? I bite back a smile, even my worries can't wash away the happiness from last night. It was like right when we got together. That first week all over again. I don't think Roger could imagine how happy he made me last night.

"Mimi!!!" I nearly jump a foot as I hear Roger bellow my name from the bedroom. I start to shake a little, I can't tell if that's good or bad. His door swings open and Roger runs over, picking me up and spinning me around. It's good, that means it's good. "Mimi! You can't imagine what just happened... We got a record contract! For the band!"

My mouth pretty much drops open and I just stare up at him. "Roger! Roger... that's so amazing... I'm... Oh God, baby, that is so..." I've lost all words, all I can do is hold tight to him and stare into his eyes. This has been his dream. Maybe now that everything else is falling into place, I'll fall back into the proper place in his heart too.

Roger's arms stay around me and he starts slowly dancing around the room with me. "Everything's going to be okay now, Mimi... We're going to be able to move some place nicer, maybe... And we can stop worrying about medicine payments all the time. You don't have to work at the Cat Scratch as often..."

I just close my eyes and rest my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his voice. I've always known I loved him, even though sometimes I can't quite remember why. Something always comes to remind me... Something in me always seems remembers how much he touches me and how we really do connect. How he takes care of me... and cares _about_ me. 

__

Maybe tomorrow

it comes crashing down

Maybe next week

I'll find another clown

Maybe I'll try to go a different way

But look who's sitting here today.

This is bad. Horrible. _This_ would give Roger reason to hit me. This would give him reason to _leave_ me. I would leave me... 

Work. Guy named Adam. Gave him a private lap dance. Young guy, maybe 20. Blonde. And cute, really cute. 

Doesn't sound like much. But... after my shift ended, he found me. And actually sat me down and talked to me. And asked me out.

Again, not much. Except... I wanted to say yes. I really wanted to say yes. He seemed so sweet. He seemed like he would treat me so well. I think I stuttered something in a 'no' and ran away. And that's...

That's enough to make him jealous... More jealous. God, it kills that I would ever even think something like that. Roger and I were so happy last night, he took me out for dinner for the second time in two days. And then tonight...

**__**

I DON'T KNOW WHAT... DO YOU REALLY DO THAT TO THE MAN YOU LOVE? HOW COULD I THINK THAT IF I LOVE HIM? IT DOESN'T... MAYBE I MISS THE OLD... ADAM REMINDED ME OF ROGER. THE ONE I MET THAT FIRST NIGHT... MAYBE I WANTED...

I pull my legs up against my chest, tucking the diary away in my purse. Adam wasn't really that different, I just... I have to try not to cry. I remain curled up tight into myself and just push away any memories I have from tonight. It's easy enough, I'm used to it. Repressing is pretty much my favourite pastime. Eventually, I manage to fall asleep, my mind washed blank again.

__

If I could change

If I could grow

I'd ask for nothing more

And through that door I'd go

But if I'm through

Why do I stay?

An Alison-less Benny reaches out and gently tries to push a mass of curls out of my face and behind my ear. It just falls back again; I styled it that way. But not before he sees the angry purple bruise that has finally swollen up. Benny reaches forward and cradles my head in his hands, peering at the bruise through my hair. "Mimi... what happened to your face?"

"Nothing, Benny... It's nothing really. Just... guys get a little violent at work, this one big one didn't want to pay for his lap dance an... and..." I stutter some and trail off. He doesn't believe me. Benny has always been able to see through me.

"Mimi, tell me the truth," he insists, reaching out and pulling me into his arms. He more than cares, I've realized that now. Ever since Alison gave him that... she called it a choice, but I don't think she ever really thought of it as one. She "knew" he was going to choose her and her daddy's money... but I was really sick at the time and he actually left. Benny chose me... But I've never been strong enough to choose him.

"I'm... it's... He was just mad, and... drunk and... it was entirely my fault and..." I'm crying again. God, why do I keep doing that? Before I thought I wasn't strong, but this is entirely ruining me now. I turn and bury my head in Benny's chest, letting him hold and comfort me. It is _not_ supposed to be like this and I am fully aware of that. My ex-boyfriend is not supposed to be taking care of me. And it's no wonder my current boyfriend doesn't love me anymore. "I miss him..." I mumble into a mouthful of shirt.

I can hear Benny sighing and I know what's coming next. He sits me up and pushes the hair away from my face again, successfully this time. "Mimi, this isn't healthy for you, and you know it. You have to leave... please?"

"Can't..." I manage, wiping off my face. "I love him..." I look up at him and see how deeply that affected him. How much it hurt him. I can't believe someone like that cares about me as much as he does and I don't see why, but... he does. "Besides... Even if I could make myself leave, it's not like I have anywhere to go..."

"Stay with me. Ever since the divorce, I've had my own place... It's nicer than this anyway, Mimi." I wish he would stop looking at me like that... It's getting harder not to leave, but I know I won't. Maybe if I was more grown-up, maybe if I knew how to take care of myself. "Baby, please... I can't keep watching you like this. You're hurting and... you're breaking. You're getting all bruised up and... Mimi... Baby, I just-"

I shake my head, cutting him off. "I do... I _have_ wanted to leave but... Benny, I can't. I can't explain it, I tried to leave once even, but I can't-" I just stare up at him for a minute, before feeling all of my resolve crumbling. Benny sighs, knowing he can't change my mind. We've had this conversation a billion times before. After every big fight with Roger. But, like always, Benny just pulls me back into his arms and holds me until we hear Roger come back home and I have to go up to see him.

__

Maybe he wants me

Maybe he needs me

Maybe he loves me

Roger's out again. At a bar. With the band. They're "celebrating". And I'm here. In Roger and Mark's loft, alone. Reading. I'm pathetic-

Bam. Door slamming. Loud footsteps. Roger's home. Roger's drunk. I start to shake, my mind immediately flashing back to the last time he was drunk. But this time, he's not violently drunk, he's... he's crying. He has his arms thrown around my legs and his head resting on my knees and he's crying. Roger's holding my legs tightly and waxing poetic about how much he couldn't stand it if he lost me. Roger sounds like he's been listening to showtunes and the ballads have been imprinted into his brain. Mimi can't believe a thing Roger's saying. "Rog?" I whisper in a tiny voice. I'm still scared, he never gets like this when he's drunk. 

Roger seems to break out of whatever "trace" he was in and looks up. He just stares up at me, pain and tears filling his eyes. "Mimi... God, I am such a fucking asshole." That's my real Roger, that's what he sounds like. "How could I ever have... I never even realized what I've done to you." He stands up and pulls me with him, running his fingers over the bruise on my cheek. "I did this... I hit you. I..." I can't even focus on what he's saying anymore, I can just realize that there's real emotion and honest apologies in what he's saying. He's asking me why I stay and trying to explain what I "mean to him"... But I'm crying now too.

"Roger... Why are you doing this...? I... please don't... I want you to... You don't love me why are you...?" I let out a loud sob and can't focus on what _I'm_ saying. I find myself reverting back to Spanish as Roger clutches onto me. It's just complete babbling, I can't help it. " Roger, yo lo amo. Yo lo amo tanto. Mi Dios, mi amor, yo lo pierdo.. ¿Por qué no puede ser usted el mismo? Quiero que usted cuide deme. Quiero que usted tengame cuando lloro. Quiero levantar una familia con usted. Acabo de querer a amarme. Yo no quiero que usted lastimeme. Quiero que nosotros seamos vale. Por favor... por favor... por favor..."

It doesn't matter that he doesn't understand, he's not listening to me anyway. He's staring at me. His mouth is actually hanging open. "Mimi... Mimi, how could you say that? I love you... of course I love you, how could you think I didn't?"

I shake my head, not moving my eyes from his. I'm trying to see what's behind them and understand. "You... you can't love me... you haven't loved me for a long time. If... you loved me... You wouldn't hurt me like this. You wouldn't let me... And I can't keep doing this, I'm not strong enough."

He lets go of me now... He actually let go of me. "Fine then... Go if you're so fucking weak." He wasn't supposed to say that. I don't know what he was supposed to say, but not that. I whimper but don't move, he was supposed to...

Beep beep beep. Pager. Time for our AZT. I ignore it, but Roger doesn't. He grabs his AZT bottle and goes into the bathroom. I assume to get water... Water doesn't come from the toilet... Oh God. He's going to throw away his AZT, he's going to- I manage to move now and get into the bathroom in time to swat the bottle out of his hand. It doesn't even seem to phase him. He just walks past me and goes into his bedroom. 

In his lap, there's a box I didn't even know he had anymore. And in it... It's April's things. This isn't right, _I'm_ the one who turns back to drugs when things get hard, and he's the one that... "What the fuck are you doing?" I hiss, standing in front of him.

"I'm gonna die without you, Mimi... Might as well move it along. I barely made it the last time, just... thinking that I was gonna find you and you were gonna still love me, kept me... Mimi, I found my song and I found you and you can't take those away from me. I need you..."

I sit down beside him, grabbing the box away. I nearly start to cry now. He's just sitting there, cradling his head in his hands. "I don't want to go... I can't stay if you don't love me."

"I _do_ love you. What am I gonna have to do to prove that to you, Mimi? I'll... I'll do anything." He lifts his head up and I just look at him for a minute. His eyes... He wrote a song about mine and I guess... Eyes do show what's inside. He wouldn't be this upset and hurt if he didn't love me.

"I know you do..." I whisper, before we both just pretty much lose everything we had keeping us going, and collapse into each other's arms. I hold my Roger and try to come to terms with everything that just happened. I could ask myself why I stay here, if we're like this, but I already know.

__

Maybe... I like it this way.

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Author's Note: Alright, lengthy car trip, boredom, much listening to music and this is what came out of it. It's my first song fic and I'm not sure about some parts of it, so... if you wanna let me know what you think of it, I'd be SO happy... Also, I want to thank my beta reader, Erato227@aol.com, you helped me out _soooo_ much!! :) 

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Disclaimer: The characters all belong to the wonderful Jonathan Larson and the song is from Andrew Lippa's version of "The Wild Party" it's (obviously) called 'Maybe I Like It This Way'. However, the idea of *mixing* the two, I (assume) is mine. ;)

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